You have been called to the Grand Lodge of Absalom for a briefing. Seated in a small chamber around a darkwood table, various trophies gathered from across the face of Golarion hang from the walls. A monkey-shaped mask with a serpent’s tongue glares out from the center of one wall, a strange halberd with gold rings piercing its thick blade and dragons carved along its haft hangs opposite the monkey mask. You are alone save your fellow Pathfinders, who apparently have been called here for the same purpose.
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A large bear of a man in simple, loose-fitting clothing stands in front of the strange halberd, tracing the dragons on the haft with a finger of his right hand. He moves with the confidence of a practiced warrior, but little sign of grace. Which is somewhat surprising, as his smooth face and pointed ears clearly indicate some elven heritage. As the others begin gathering in the room, he works his way into a seat near the foot of the table. "I am Thearor. I serve the Pathfinders mostly as muscle."
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Jasmine walks in, nimble and graceful. Her auburn hair flowing down to her shoulders, daggers placed strategically around her body. One on each hip, one that appears to be poking out her boot, and others go unseen.
She is dressed in a fine crafted studded armor, of dark dye job. She walks over quietly to the table, and sits closest to the door, if only out if habit. She speaks to no one, if also out of habit. It is not that she doesn't like to, but her training that has been engrained in her is to be silent at all times.
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An orange-robed tengu with a bamboo hat, a staff, and a rolled-up blanket on his back enters the room. His attire pegs him as hailing from the eastern realms of Tian Xia, to those who know of them.
He takes a bow to all of you, hands in prayer position.
"Nín hǎo, honorable sirs and madam! Kuaizi Wu, at your service."
Spotting the halberd, he approaches Thearor, "Ah! Fine specimen. It is called guandao in my home country. Very deadly! Can cut a horse in two... though, having taken Vow of Peace, I would never wish to do so!"
Sitting at the table is a thin framed man dressed in a coffee colored vest over an off white shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. Smudges of prismatic colors stain his fingers; several pieces of charcoal are sprawled out in front of him. He doesn't make any moves or indication that he notices folks as they enter the room. His gaze moves back and forth between the sketchbook in front of him and the trophies on display as his hand replicates them on paper. After people begin to introduce themselves he eventually puts down the chalk and looks up. "Well met everyone. I am Velinov."
Finally, a huge man wearing creaking leathers marches into the room. He looks at each of you, as if he were appraising a handful of gemstones freshly pulled from the earth, and nods curtly. Some of you know him as Adril Hestram, a longtime Pathfinder and rumored to be the unwitting architect of the famed Katapesh slave riot of 4702. Adril’s physique puts most half-orcs to shame.
“Welcome, friends. We have a serious problem. Skelg the Ripper came to Absalom one month ago. Like many Ulfen warriors he joined the Longaxes, the Taldan Emperor’s personal guard whose duty it is to protect the embassy and Taldan visitors. Skelg also dropped a hefty sum of gold to purchase a manor in the Ivy district, something a Longaxe isn’t paid well enough to do. It is widely assumed that he brought most of his wealth with him from the north—a rumor I know to be true."
“It seems that Skelg also brought a curse with him. In his letter to me, he speaks of lying abed in this miserable summer dying from the cold. Neither physician nor priest has been able to cure his ailment, and there are no signs of disease or poison. Of course, for such a man, there is no greater dishonor than to die in bed instead of in battle."
“Normally, the Pathfinder Society would monitor these events and let the authorities deal with them. However, there are three factors that have drawn our interest. First, Skelg is himself a member of our Society and has asked for our help. Second, he is a personal friend of mine, and finding a sparring partner as worthy as Skelg to replace him would be a trying task. Last, he claims that artifacts of great power are involved, and that we may be able to recover them for the vaults of the Grand Lodge."
“We view this situation as having enough importance to assign you to investigate it. Go to the home of Skelg the Ripper, learn what you can, and do your best to help him. If you find an item that is somehow connected to the curse, either retrieve it or glean as much information as you can about it."
“I trust there are no questions?”
"Your homeland is in the Ivy District?" asks an amused Adril Hestram.
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Kuaizi remains focused and alert in his seat as Adril Hestram speaks. He observes his expressions carefully, for signs of hiding something. After Roary and Thearor speak, the monk politely chimes in with a question. "You can count on me, Adril Hestram-san. One question, however, if you please. Any clues about what sort of powerful artifacts Skelg the Ripper-san may be referring to?"
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Jasmine searches her brain for any information that would be relevant to the Parhfinder named Skelg, any enemies he may have or anything helpful to this situation.
Jasmine will share any information she remembers about Skelg or enemies. She then turns to the venture captain, help a sick man, got it sir
"If I knew any of that, I'd have told you," says the Venture Captain. "Go ask Skelg."
Jasmine knows nothing about Skelg's enemies, but has heard that he lives in Greydog Manor, on Parkview Street in the Ivy district.
Will you head directly there or do you wish to do anything else first (e.g., shopping)?
Parkview Street is true to its name, running the entire length of the Ivy District park. Standing like a tomb in a flower garden, Greydog Manor is easy to find. Six-foot-high walls surround the massive, stone building and an immense iron gate flanked by granite statues of hunting dogs stands open, offering access to the interior. Looking along the street, it is clear that locals give the estate a wide berth. The stone walls seem to give a slight chill to the air, which is not entirely unpleasant on such a hot day.
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Kuaizi halts and gets a bit excited at the sight of the twin statues. "Dogs! Most auspicious sign... Skelg-san must have loyal companions."
He continues towards the front door, pausing to turn and scratch his feathered head at the perplexing humor of Thearor and Velinov. Humor of the Inner Sea is too often lost on this immigrant from Tian Xia, so Kuaizi takes things a bit too seriously, too often...
"Velinov-san, do easels in these lands require such endurance and agility to properly use? Having been well trained in the art of gōng fu, perhaps I might be of assistance?"
Kuaizi sizes up Velinov's visible gear for where one of these reputedly challenging western easels might be...
The courtyard is cool and shady compared to the street outside. Dead leaves are scattered across the flagstones and the granite steps where two Ulfen warriors stand. Each man wears a chain shirt and a surcoat bearing the Taldan crest and carries the traditional imperial guard long axe.
The guards look at you sternly, and one of them speaks. “Skelg is ill. He wants no visitors.”
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Kuaizi halts and gets a bit excited at the sight of the twin statues. "Dogs! Most auspicious sign... Skelg-san must have loyal companions."
He continues towards the front door, pausing to turn and scratch his feathered head at the perplexing humor of Thearor and Velinov. Humor of the Inner Sea is too often lost on this immigrant from Tian Xia, so Kuaizi takes things a bit too seriously, too often...
"Velinov-san, do easels in these lands require such endurance and agility to properly use? Having been well trained in the art of gōng fu, perhaps I might be of assistance?"
Kuaizi sizes up Velinov's visible gear for where one of these reputedly challenging western easels might be...
"That's ok Kuaizi. I'm almost done."
"Shove off, I said," replies the guard.
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Kuaizi pleads with the guards, "But, noble sirs! We may be able to assist with Skelg-san's recovery. Do you not want him to feel better?"
The orange-robed monk observes the two guards as they respond more carefully, looking for facial and body language that might indicate if they have ulterior motives, or are simply being obstinate.
"He's changed his mind," growls one. "Now he just wants to die in peace."
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Hearing Roary's accusation, Kuaizi does a double take at the guards' surcoats. He kicks his planted staff up and begins to twirl it in an impressive fashion, and takes a defensive combat stance.
"If you are not Taldan guards, then... Drop weapons! Surrender, and be spared! Or else, upon you will be... THE CRAAAW!!!"
A open-palmed taloned hand punches in the air, in the direction of the guards, emphasizing his sincerity, perhaps bestowing a comedic effect, if not his intended intimidating effect.
The guards are nonplussed by Kuaizi's assertion, then giggle a little, reaching for the gates to slam them shut.
Initiative Order
Jasmine
Thearor
Ulfens
Kuaizi
Velinov
Roary
Jasmine, Thearor, go!